by Неизвестный
" Don' t criticize. Just get me free."
Even as the spider did as he was told, Lan saw the desperate straits he was in. A hundred of the smaller arachnids now populated the webs aloft. They all vectored in on him.
Webs shot and missed, some landed and were severed by his sword, still others were pulled free, but the fusillade came unceasingly. Even with Krek' s aid, getting back up the slope to where Ehznoll waited proved difficult.
" Friend Lan Martak, I run out of the softening fluid." The giant spider spat out another mouthful of amber fluid to dissolve the silk cords. " If you do not free yourself of more soon:"
Krek didn' t have to spell out the alternative. Hundreds- maybe thousands- of the smaller spiders advanced on their position from the valley floor.
" Go on, Krek, you and Ehznoll. Rejoin Abasi- Abi."
" Leave you?"
" Do as I say! Now!"
" Very well. You are being very testy about this." Krek trotted off a few feet, then turned asking, " Are you sure you would not like company?"
Lan Martak didn' t hear his friend. He prepared to meet the onslaught of the spiders he' d tried to aid.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
A silken noose circled his neck, jerked him erect, and brought him down hard to the ground. Lan Martak couldn' t even let out a strangled gasp of horror.
" Really, friend Lan Martak, you are being too good to those merespiders," said Krek with some exasperation. He trotted back and severed the silk band with a single slice from his mandibles. " You are only encouraging them to continue their ways. No human will be safe if they feel you are a weakling."
Lan gasped in the thin air of Mount Tartanius. Never had oxygenpoor air tasted so good to him.
" They come after us," observed Ehznoll.
" Faster. Let' s get out of here a lot faster," panted Lan. Krek and Ehznoll followed. Eventually they outdistanced the smaller spiders, who gave up the chase and returned to their webs for repair and to await another likely candidate for cocooning.
They rejoined Abasi- Abi and Morto on the ledge. The sorcerer' s disposition hadn' t improved, nor had their situation, which AbasiAbi was quick to point out.
" We are still too far from the summit. Claybore will arrive before us."
" I don' t know how he can," said Lan. " We' re making good time. It' s cost us enough lives," he added gloomily.
" Claybore is not encumbered as we are with bodies that tire. Claybore is not encumbered with fools who control their magics too poorly." Abasi- Abi looked directly at Lan when saying that.
" Look, Abasi- Abi, I' m no mage. I knew a few small spells, nothing more."
" Humph."
Lan didn' t feel like arguing. What had seemed like an easy path to follow even higher up the side of Mount Tartanius had turned out to be disastrous. Getting through the valley of the spiders proved too dangerous in their condition; Krek' s path up the sheer side of Mount Tartanius turned out to be better- after a while. Lan only hoped the spider meant it when he said the going got easier, for humans, after the initial precipitous climb.
Abasi- Abi and Morto said nothing as they gathered their sparse belongings and prepared for the assault up the mountain. The four humans depended heavily on Krek and his web- spinning abilities in the next few hours; then came an area Lan hardly believed possible.
" It' s incredible!" he exclaimed, looking out over the small valley. " There' re green growing plants, small animals. This might be two miles below us and not on a mountaintop!"
" The geological and geographical details of Mount Tartanius are peculiar," said Krek. " Never have I seen a mountain so tall also fraught with tiny valleys. Perpendicular rock is more usual."
" This is the home of sorcerers," said Abasi- Abi.
" The good earth provides for us on our holy pilgrimage," Ehznoll furnished.
" I believe Abasi- Abi," said Lan. " This is almost bucolic." A tiny catch came to his throat. This small valley reminded him of one he' d found in the el- Liot Mountains back on the planet of his birth. He' d planned on settling there eventually, claiming the entire valley for himself and Zarella.
The grey- clad soldiers, Surepta- Claybore!- had shattered that dream permanently.
" The entire mountain is of sorcerous conjuring," said Morto, speaking for the first time Lan remembered. " Claybore had nothing to do with it. One greater than he forged this rocky spire and put atop it the-"
" Silence, Morto," snapped Abasi- Abi.
" Let him talk. I' m curious about how all this came about."
" Figure it out for yourself," said the sorcerer with illconcealed disgust. " You' re the one with the power."
Abasi- Abi motioned for Morto to follow. The pair went off to fix a small camp some distance away. Krek began spinning a small web for himself, leaving Lan alone with Ehznoll. The pilgrim dropped down on a partially frozen patch of dirt and began to pray.
" So that' s how it is?" Lan said to himself. " Within sight of the summit and we all go our separate directions." He turned his gaze upward toward the crest of Mount Tartanius. Drifting white, puffy clouds obscured the uppermost portion of the mountain, but vagrant breaks in the cover showed a flatness that startled him. He' d expected a needle- sharp prow instead of what actually existed. But if the entire mountain had been fashioned by a master sorcerer, it explained much- and promised more surprises to come.
The weather had been perfect for their ascent. Over two miles above the surface of the land- three above sea level- the oxygen content was nil. Lan and Ehznoll once again relied on the magical breathing mask found in the shed at the base of the mountain. AbasiAbi and Morto existed on the mage' s spells, and Krek relished the thinness of the atmosphere. But most of all Lan noted the terrain. All of the mountain continually surprised him. Valleys that shouldn' t have existed did. The climb up such a towering peak required considerable preparation and skill; it had been relatively easy for them. The dangers had been present, but those were minor compared to some climbs he' d been on.
He feared the worst danger of all lay ahead, atop the mountain, up on the level area.
He hunched over, head on raised knees, tired to the core of his being. Lan Martak slept.
He wandered through darkness. He snapped his fingers and uttered the pyromancy spell. Flames danced from his fingertips and brought light to the universe. He walked aimlessly at first, then some intuition took his steps in a particular direction.
" Inyx?" he whispered. The single name boomed forth, too loud, too startlingly.
" Help me, Lan. I: I can' t get out. The whiteness is everywhere. Help me!"
He walked faster. The light from his fingertips glowed constantly now, a source of illumination for hundreds of yards. Ahead, he saw movement.
" Inyx!"
He ran forward, then stopped abruptly.
" Am I your Inyx?" came Claybore' s mocking voice. " I think not."
The sorcerer' s skull floated at waist level. The eye sockets remained dark, sunken.
" Why aren' t you trying to kill with your eyes?" he asked.
" Like so?"
Twin beacons of ruby death lanced forth. Again, as they had done before, the columns of light bent slightly, going around Lan Martak' s body. He knew that to reach out and thrust his hand into one of those now- curving beams meant instant death.
" I don' t know what spell you use to counter my death beams. One day I shall have to find out from you."
" Abasi- Abi supplies it," Lan said, hardly wanting to believe Claybore.
" Abasi- Abi, that fool? Hardly. No, Lan Martak, you are doing it. How, I don' t know. And it matters little now. I have made it to the summit of Mount Tartanius. You haven' t. You have failed."
" You lie!"
Laughter rang out, vanishing into the boundless dark beyond the limits of Lan' s light.
" You have proved yourself a surprisingly worthy opponent. I misjudged you. At first I thought you no more than a simple- minded bumpkin from an underdevelop
ed world, now I wonder. You possess deceptive magical abilities. When I least expect it, you counter my most potent spells. Who are you, Lan Martak?"
" I' m the one who wants Inyx released from the nothingness between the worlds. I' m the one who wants the Kinetic Sphere. I' m the one who wants to stop you!"
Again the laughter, this time shriller, more hysterical.
" So noble. Tell me, if I release this Inyx from her limbo, will you turn around and be content to live out your life on this fair, lush world?"
" Give up the Kinetic Sphere?"
" Yes."
" That tells me much, Claybore. You haven' t won, not at all. You aren' t the kind to bargain unless you stand to gain. The Sphere gives you too much power; that means you' re still looking for it."
" I know where it is."
" I do, too, but I don' t have it, either."
" Fool!"
The ruby beams solidified into iron, trapping Lan, forcing him to remain immobile. The skull floated closer. The jaw clacked slightly, dead bone above banging on the three teeth clinging to the bottom jaw. Lan felt irrational dread of that skull, then calmed himself. He had no idea what spell he used to keep the eye- beams at bay, but it worked. Immense flows of power surged about him; Claybore put everything into this single assault.
The disembodied sorcerer failed. As abruptly as he' d appeared, he vanished.
Lan Martak awoke screaming, the pleasant valley stretching before him, the summit of Mount Tartanius a day' s climb above.
" Stairs," he said in awe. " Someone has cut a stairway into the living stone." Lan put one foot on the bottom step, as if he didn' t believe it existed. Putting weight on it proved reality.
" The good earth has prepared the way for the faithful." Ehznoll stood to one side, bloodshot eyes wide in religious rapture. He had spent the entire night praying to his earth god. After the brief excursion into unreality and the confrontation with Claybore, Lan wished he had done the same.
" The steps were put here by a mage," said Morto. The man fell silent when Abasi- Abi kicked at him.
" Is it safe?" Lan asked.
" No," came the taut, crisp reply from the sorcerer. " It is very dangerous. I must go first, to explore, to counter any ward spells put along the way to deter us."
Ehznoll didn' t seem to hear. He began climbing, slowly at first, then with more energy. The closer he got to the top of the mountain, the more he came alive. His pilgrimage was at an end.
" Stop, wait, don' t!" cried Abasi- Abi. Ehznoll had already climbed half of the hundred steps to the summit.
" The way is safe," said Lan. " I feel no magic. Not here." From the top, however, radiated continual pulses of energy. The spells atop Mount Tartanius were potent.
" The Kinetic Sphere is there," said Krek. " I ' see' it so clearly it almost burns my eyes."
" You don' t see with your eyes, not the cenotaphs," Lan pointed out.
" A figure of speech." The arachnid had begun his own way up the stairs. Lan followed. Behind came incoherent babblings from Abasi- Abi and soft, soothing words from Morto.
As he walked, Lan cast out his senses for the slightest hint of danger. Nothing. The steps were perfectly etched into the mountain, the weather clear, his personal energy at a high. The weariness of the climb had been forgotten because of the nearness of his goal. The dream battle with Claybore, while enervating, had convinced him they were still ahead of the sorcerer. They' d reach the top first. And recover the Sphere, rescue Inyx, strand Claybore, and prevent him and his grey- clad soldiers from conquering every world along the Cenotaph Road.
So simple.
Lan bounced up the last few steps and stopped to stand and stare, Ehznoll and Krek at his side. Behind, still a quarter of the way down the stairs, came old Abasi- Abi and Morto.
" Think of the forces that did this," Lan said in a soft voice.
The entire top of the mountain had been levelled off, the surface polished to a high gloss. Looking down, Lan saw his own reflection. Over an acre of mountaintop turned into a mirror- and dropped off to one side of the mirrored plane, as if an afterthought, stood a small single- roomed stone hut. Ehznoll sank to his knees, crossed wrists, and began to chant.
" I believe this is what our pilgrim seeks," said Krek.
" Hardly seems worth the effort." Even as Lan spoke, his attention became riveted to the stone hut. His eyes didn' t see, but his magical sensing ability " saw" what lay within.
The Kinetic Sphere gleamed as brightly as if it had become the sun itself.
" Stop, wait, don' t go!" called Abasi- Abi, stumbling up the last few steps to join the others. " The danger. You don' t know what powers you' re meddling with."
" Krek, keep him here while I go exploring." Lan drew his sword and began walking. He had to place his feet carefully; not only did the surface reflect like a mirror, it proved as slippery as one.
He hadn' t walked ten feet when he felt tiny tendrils working against his face, caressing his body, holding him back. He turned and immediately located the source of the magical interference. He pointed the tip of his sword directly at Abasi- Abi.
" Old man, try to stop me with your magics again and I' ll toss you over the edge of the mountain."
" Don' t go. Let me. You' ll ruin everything."
" You' ve been too closed- mouthed about your business. I can only conclude you want the Kinetic Sphere for yourself."
" The Kinetic Sphere?" The sorcerer appeared genuinely surprised.
" That' s the potent magical device you seek," said Lan.
" Yes, yes, it' s here, but so what? I want to destroy the other. I want to prevent Claybore from regaining his power."
" If I keep him away from the Kinetic Sphere, he can' t regain his power."
" No, you meddling fool, you don' t understand. You' re delving into matters of cosmic scope. You can' t control them. You-"
" Krek, a few strands of your web, please. Yes, thanks." He watched as the spider wrapped the sorcerer firmly in a double band of thick silk. One crossed the mage' s mouth and rendered him incapable of speaking. Lan Martak heaved a sigh, turned, and began his slippery way across to the hut.
Less than halfway there, a wall sprung up in front of him, a wall even more highly polished than the ground. A perfect likeness reflected back to him. At the side, barely more than tiny black dots, he made out the reflections of the others so far behind him on the plain.
Lan moved closer; the image came closer. He skirted the wall, studying its base. No seam existed between ground and wall to indicate how it had appeared so abruptly. He came to the end of the eightfoot- high barrier and peered around.
His image wrapped itself around the edge, almost as if the twodimensional being existed and dogged his steps.
" Well, old friend, here' s where I leave you."
" No."
Startled when his image replied, Lan stepped back. The reflection did likewise. Lan studied the image more carefully now. It moved when he did. A reflection, nothing more. When he tried to go around the side of the wall, the image attacked.
Quick reflexes allowed him to fend off the blow. Losing his footing on the slick surface, he slid backward and fell. The mirrorwarrior stood where he had been before the attack- on his feet.
Lan retreated and regained his feet. The image diminished in size. As he retraced his path, moving closer, the image grew until it matched him in size and detail.
" Let me by," he said, feeling silly about talking to a mirror.
" No."
Coldness settled in his stomach. He swung his sword at the image and met the wall' s glassy material with a ringing crash. Glass tinkled and fell to cover the plain. The mirror image had vanished. He advanced and heard Abasi- Abi crying out behind, calling him names, telling of his mismatched and illicit parentage. Lan hoped Krek would spin another strand to cover the mage' s mouth.
He hadn' t gone five feet when another wall appeared in front of him, also constructed of the glassy mat
erial and highly reflective. He again faced himself. Again he fought. This time his blows never even reached the wall. Shocks ran down his sword arm with the impact of the parry. Every blow he made, every parry, every riposte, was perfectly matched.
He gusted a sigh of disgust and stepped back to disengage. How could he outmaneuver his own reflections?
" Die!" came the single command.
Lan Martak found himself fighting for his life. He succeeded in preventing his own image from inflicting damage, but only barely. Lan fought, then backed away. At ten feet, the image stopped its advance, a perfect reflection, mimicking his every move. He retreated further, returning to where the others stood and watched.
" Release the web over his mouth," Lan commanded. " I want him to tell me what' s going on."
Abasi- Abi sputtered when Krek pulled free the silk rope.
" How do I get by?"
" I: I don' t know. This is the center of his power. The Kinetic Sphere feeds the defenses. Claybore isn' t here, not yet, but he will be. Only he knows fully all the defenses to be found."
" You lying piece of garbage," said Lan. " You know. You' ve got a spell to get by those images."
" No, honestly, I don' t."
" Do not desecrate this holy place, pilgrim," said Ehznoll, holding back Lan' s sword arm and preventing him from running AbasiAbi through. " The good earth will not keep us from the temple. When we are wanted, all defenses will go down. So it is written, so it is done."
" When? After sunset?"
" No. The earth rejoices in the day, abhors the night. Night is the time for the infinite sky to intrude." Lan shut out the rest of Ehznoll' s maunderings. He had no desire to be converted to the earth religion. He wanted the Kinetic Sphere inside the stone hut.
Getting past his own reflection might prove difficult. After all, how could he outmaneuver himself?
" Well?"
" Nothing," answered Abasi- Abi. " I have found no spell that works."
Lan had felt the mage attempting one spell after another to eliminate the guardian reflections. The purpose of some of the spells he failed to understand, others he sensed even as they sizzled and eventually petered out. The wards placed on this mountaintop were powerful.